I’m a parent, a mother of three precious little cherubs whom I love dearly. As a mother, I wanted what was best for my darlings and used stories (some fact, some fictional) to do so but sometimes I made up some stories just for fun to see how long they’d believe me for. Some examples were: When the home ice cream truck rings its bell, that means there’s no more ice cream left. Another was: There’s a little man who lives inside the fridge and turns the light on every time you open it and off when you shut it. These, like many stories, were completely harmless, however, I had no idea what an impact some of the stories I told would have on my children.
I watched them keep the door as slightly ajar as possible in order to catch that little man switching off the light in the fridge. After failing to do so, they drew up plans to catch the little man, promising to one another that if they caught him, they would put him in the city museum, and they would be kajillionaires. As they grew older, so did the seriousness of their plans. With every new piece of education they stored in their minds, they elaborated on the plans, and dismissed all of the instruction manuals they found on the Internet.
I tried to tell them that it wasn’t true, that it was a story I made up for a bit of fun but it was too late. They almost seemed to have this… obsession over it. I didn’t know what to do, how to convince them otherwise. Still, it was amusing to watch and since I couldn’t persuade them as to what it really was, I decided to encourage their creative endeavours, hoping something good might come out of it.
But it didn’t. Instead, after destroying the fridge to no avail, they decided to go into other people’s homes and try to dismantle those fridges also. I had no knowledge of this, and as such, news reports of vandals dismantling fridges spread throughout the town like the Bubonic Plague. Everyone and their mother had been affected. Shopkeepers, butchers, and even the local pub had their fridges destroyed. At first it was an isolated case, then it spread to mass destruction over four days. I caught on after the second day, and scolded them for not believing me. But their adamant nature would not let this obsession die.
On the third and fourth days, I had increased the security of the home, to prevent them leaving, and to prevent anyone entering if it wasn’t actually them. Despite this, they seemed to be incredibly resourceful, making lockpicks from paperclips in my husband’s office. Even after I stored the paperclips away and locked them within my husband’s office cabinet, they reused their lockpicks and fashioned them to fit the lock, much to my dismay. Their spree had to come to an end… and it was time that, maybe, I could redirect their innovative resourcefulness towards some other end.
I consulted a few close friends about the issue at hand and what might be done about it. A few valid suggestions came up; things that we thought might actually work. Sending them to study liberal arts – so they could be even more innovative and resourceful in ways that they might be able to make a career out of – became the only conclusion we came to by the end of afternoon tea.
And with that, they packed their bags, pardoned for their “crimes”, much to my embarrassment. They left college in the big city, knowing full well what this meant for their future; that this wasn’t atonement, but rather to properly utilise and foster their talents. The days became months, and the months to years. By the end of ten years, they came back with PhDs in science, much to my surprise. Becoming theoretical scientists with inquisitive minds filled with kowledge in astronomy, quantum physics, and bioengineering, the brothers began drafting a new era in their lives: a company that could combine all those aspects together for the greater good of humanity.
I guess some habits die hard.
Thank you, dear reader, for reading this hilariously fun collaboration with HugglePenguin, a new admin of the page. She will be writing creative pieces for this website, as well as for her own page called The Abyss. Please take a look at her About page, both on my site and her site; and of course, show her some love by subscribing to her blog, and liking/commenting on her work.
And remember, DFTBA!